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Her Grave Consequences

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The Oldest Of Eight Children, I Was Never Genuinely Loved By My Mother. I Believe She Was Narcissistic. My Grandmother Rescued Me When I Was Young. The Photo Below Is Me On The Far Right And My Mother.

I Was Born Into Darkness, Swaddled In Shame, Nourished On Negativity, With Regrets, My Wounded Heart Beats Lame. With Unforgiving Harshness, I Welcomed Peaceful Silence, Dug Below Eternal Darkness, Her Death Quieted My Pain. The Beautiful Stone Above Her Bed, Forever Marks Her Name, She Abused Them All Soundly, But Would Never Claim. I Visit With Forgiveness and Love, I Kneel With Strength, Her Soul Beneath My Feet, I Hear God's Plan Above. Burning Into Peace, An Equal Deed, Done At Length, My Heart For Her Feels Pity. "Let Me Teach Thee How," I Hear The Words, Above My Mother's Grave, How Light My Pain Seems Now. Tears Fall From My Thoughts, Not From A Broken Heart, For It Could Not, For Life And Death Impart. Her Head Stone Reads, "An Eternal Loss, In This Life And In Death, A Pain We Never Forgot." ~Vickie Hurtt- Thayer~2017

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 12/12/2017 3:54:00 PM
This is heartrendingly sad, no child should have to deal with this.. your first line sets up the scene for this very very sad poem...
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Vickie Hurtt - Thayer
Date: 7/24/2018 12:03:00 PM
Thanks, Painfully True.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things